


A Helping Hand

by rafflessia_sweetened_tea



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Desperation, Embarrassment, Hand Jobs, I didn’t mean for this to get so soft but here we are, Kink Discovery, Light Bondage, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Omorashi, Wetting, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24835390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rafflessia_sweetened_tea/pseuds/rafflessia_sweetened_tea
Summary: Hubert gets captured and ends up in an...embarrassing situation. Luckily, Ferdinand is here to help.[Filled for the FE3H Kink Meme]
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 9
Kudos: 112
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	A Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This is an omorashi fic. If you're unfamiliar with that term, its a kink for bladder desperation/wetting. There is piss in this fic. If that's not something you're cool with reading about, now is the time to click back. 
> 
> Hubert might be a little overly dramatic in this, but considering how he reacts to collapsing with Linhardt, I don't think he handles embarrassment very well. Poor thing. 
> 
> This was a fill for the FE3H Kink Meme!

The first thing Hubert noticed as he surged into wakefulness was the sound of dripping water. It was slow but steady, echoing slightly around the…cell? There was cold stone beneath his crumpled legs, and through the dim light he could see bars surrounding him on all sides. His shoulders ached, and he realized that his hands were bound in strange, bulky shackles that were chained to the ceiling, holding his hands over his head and keeping him upright even when he had been slumped unconscious on the floor. 

  
Memories began to return; the battle with those damned slithering mages, the demonic beast heading straight for Ferdinand…Hubert had let his guard down for just a moment and turned his horse to charge in to Ferdinand’s aid, but it had been a trap. The enemy had circled him before he had a chance to realize what was happening, and then he had been hit with a spell and everything had gone dark…

  
Hubert was almost more angry with himself than with the contemptable creatures he now found himself at the mercy of. How foolish he had been! The demonic beast had obviously been deployed to distract him, so he would fail to notice the troops sweeping up from behind. It was possible that their primary goal had been to capture him all along. He should have known better, but Ferdinand had been right in the beast’s path…Ferdinand who had his own troops to assist him, and Caspar and Petra nearby to come to his aid if needed, Ferdinand who probably could have handled the situation just fine without Hubert…

  
He had reacted to the impulse of his heart rather than his mind, and now he would pay for it. But it was useless to dwell on that now. He had to focus on escaping his prison and rejoining his allies. He staggered to his feet unsteadily, and the shifting gravity made him suddenly aware of an uncomfortable, heavy weight on his bladder. 

  
Well. That was a poorly timed annoyance, but one he could endure. He had always prided himself in having excellent control over his body. He could stand to go without food or rest for extended periods of time, he had a high tolerance for pain, and he could contain a full bladder for however long was necessary. He had sat through many long meetings while ignoring his body’s baser needs, and could put off a lavatory break for ages when he was too busy to step away from his work. This was nothing.

  
He turned his attention away from that irritation and focused his attention on his bound hands. The chain that held his shackles above his head when he was seated was more forgiving now that he was standing, and could lower his hands to just above his navel. This didn’t allow him much room to move, but at least it didn’t put such a strain on his shoulders. The shackles themselves were made of a strange dark metal that Hubert didn’t recognize, and when he tried to summon a spell he felt the magic fizzle away in his fingertips. Most likely imbued with a silence spell, then. He couldn’t count on his abilities as a mage to get him out of this situation. He would have to rely on his mind. 

  
Unfortunately, a look around the room he was held in offered little information. It was not a large chamber, holding two other cells aside from the one he was in. The other cells were empty, but held similar chains and shackles to the ones that bound Hubert’s hands. There were two windows, secured with heavy bars to prevent escape, which allowed just enough of the midafternoon light through their thick, dirty glass for Hubert to get a decent look at his surroundings. There was table and two chairs across the room from the cells, presumably for a guard, though none was there at the moment. Strange. Had they assumed he wasn’t a threat with his magic blocked? Or perhaps they were short on men? 

  
Straining his ears, Hubert could faintly hear voices and footsteps beyond the heavy iron door that served as the only exit. There was surely someone keeping watch outside, even if they didn’t feel that their prisoner needed close supervision. That was…disappointing. If there had been a guard in the room, Hubert could perhaps have goaded them into talking until they revealed some useful information.

  
With no magic, no one’s brain to pick and little room to move, Hubert fast felt himself running out of options except to wait. Surely someone would come by eventually, to check on their prisoner or perhaps to interrogate him. He just had to be patient. 

  
And so he waited. And waited. And waited. He listed every poison he could think of in his head, he mentally recited Lady Edelgard’s manifesto, he daydreamed about all the ways he would make his captors suffer once he was free…but there was no change in Hubert’s circumstances, save the pressure low in his pelvis growing more and more insistent and harder to ignore. 

  
There was a bucket in the corner of his cell. Perhaps with some work, he could get close enough to…make use of it. But the greater problem was the matter reaching the buttons on the front of his trousers. The chain held his hands too high up, and no matter how he struggled, his fingers could only tug up the hem of his tunic. The bucket was useless to him if he couldn’t get his trousers open.

  
The knowledge that he _couldn’t_ relieve himself seemed to make the need sharper. He had been able to push it to the back of his mind before, but now it had grown to a constant, incessant ache, punctuated with stronger pangs that made his toes curl in his boots. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, finding little relief in the movement but struggling now to remain still. 

  
This was absurd. He had waited longer than this before. He was _fine_. But now that he thought of it, he had drank an extra cup of coffee that morning to wake himself up from a long night of paperwork. And the dry air of this time of year had made him thirsty before the battle had begun, he nearly emptied his water flask to counter the dryness in his throat. And how long had he been unconscious before he woke in the cell? 

  
Loathe as he was to admit it, he knew that even he had limits. There was only so much a human body could endure. The bladder could only hold so much fluid, and for only so long, until—

  
The thought sent a flush sweeping up Hubert’s face, and he angrily shook his head as if the thought could be dislodged. He _would not_. He absolutely would not. He was the Minister of the Imperial Household, Lady Edelgard’s most trusted servant and the knife that carved out a bloody path for his lady to walk. He was twenty-six years old and he was not going to…to _wet himself_ like a child. The thought was ludicrous. 

  
He had to think about something else. Anything else. Flames, had the sound of water dripping from the ceiling gotten louder? No, don’t think of that either. Perhaps he could recite Lady Edelgard’s manifesto again. 

  
Suddenly there was a commotion from beyond the prison door. There was footsteps and shouting, and he heard someone cry, “We’re under attack! Those Empire bastards have found us!” 

  
Hubert tensed, torn between shame and guilt and relief. His companions had come for him. They shouldn’t have, shouldn’t have put themselves at risk for his errors, should have left him to rectify his own mistakes…but he had never known the Black Eagle Strike Force to leave one of their own behind.

  
The voices outside seemed panicked, frightened. Perhaps they truly were short on men as he had suspected. In that case, this hopefully would not be a long or difficult battle, assuming the mages had used up all their tricks in the last battle. His ordeal would likely be over soon. His companions would emerge victorious and break him out of his cell and he could finally…take care of this infuriating problem.

  
He allowed himself to relax just a bit at the thought, and immediately realized his mistake. He had held his muscles so tightly for so long, and letting go for just a moment caused a lapse in his control. The smallest dribble leaked out of him, a tiny bloom of warmth into his smallclothes. He gasped, face burning crimson as he clenched, twisting his legs together in a panic. He had managed to stop the leak, but he could feel the dampness between his legs. 

  
He had never been desperate enough to lose control of himself before, not once since he was old enough to have formed memories. It wasn’t much, likely not enough to soak through to be visible on his trousers, but the shame of it made his head swim. He couldn’t lose control of himself now! He couldn’t! 

  
The thought of disgracing himself at the hands of his enemies was dreadful, but imagining any of his companions discovering him standing in a puddle of his own making…that was unbearable. What if Lady Edelgard saw him like that? How would he ever look her in the eye again? And Ferdinand, his Ferdinand…oh, Ferdie would be kind about it, of course he would, but it was all too easy to imagine his fine nose wrinkling in disgust at such a shameful display. 

  
He had to wait. It couldn’t be much longer. He had to. The alternative could simply not be allowed. 

  
Hubert could hear the sounds of battle outside and forced himself to focus his energy on remaining in control. His thighs were clenched, pressed together as tightly as he could and beginning to tremble from the exertion. He couldn’t bear to remain still for more than a few moments, and as shameful as it was he found himself wishing to have a hand free to squeeze himself, anything to relieve a bit of the pressure. But if he had a hand unbound, he could use it to unbutton his trousers and—

  
_No_. Just thinking of it made the urgency pitch higher and he twisted his legs together, squirming helplessly against the terrible throbbing need and hating himself for it. He needed to keep his mind clear. He needed to remain in control. He needed…he needed…oh damn the goddess, he needed to piss!

  
He was so lost in his own internal fight that he almost didn’t notice the sounds of battle dying down, and then the sound of movement, voices…and the scrap of metal as someone began to unlock the prison door. After a brief struggle with the lock, the door swung open and in crept none other that Ferdinand von Aegir, sword in hand and eyes narrowed in caution. But then he saw Hubert and the stern expression of a soldier immediately morphed into open relief and joy. 

  
“Hubert!” he cried, rushing over to the cell. “Thank goodness, I had been worried sick! We feared the worst when we realized you had been taken by those villains. Are you well? Did they harm you?”

  
“Fine,” Hubert croaked, his throat dry from the strain. What irony that he would be craving a drink of water now. “I’m fine. How did you open the door? Do you have a key?”

  
“Oh, right!” Ferdinand pulled forth a ring of heavy metal keys and began to try one after another on the padlock holding Hubert’s cell shut. “I apologize, I am sure you are eager to be free! We took these keys off a man who seemed to be standing guard outside the prison. I am sure one of these will be the one we need—” 

  
“Be quick about it, please.” 

  
Ferdinand stopped in his task for just a moment, frowning with concern up at Hubert who was at that moment fighting against the urge to dance in place. “Hubert? What is wrong? You sound as if you are in pain!”

  
It was hard to breath normally. Every breath seemed to take up space inside him that he could no longer spare. “I-I am—”

  
“Do not say you are fine if it is not true!” Ferdinand leaned closer, disarmingly earnest as ever. “I was truly so afraid for you. If you are hurt or unwell, I wish for you to tell me so that I may help!”

  
Hubert lowered his gaze, any lies he had hoped to tell dying on his lips. He had always kept his needs hidden and under control, never admitting when he was tired or hungry or…or needed anything else, for that matter. It created the illusion that he had no weaknesses, that he was beyond such base human needs. But he was only human, and Ferdinand knew that. Kind, sweet Ferdinand who always wanted to help…

  
“I…” Hubert swallowed, trying to force down the blush that was crawling up his neck as he finally confessed, “I need to relieve myself. Immediately.”

  
“Oh!” Now it was Ferdinand’s turn to blush, as if he had any cause for embarrassment. “F-forgive me, I did not realize! Fear not, I will have you out in just a moment!” He returned to the keys, moving quicker this time, but perhaps not quick enough. The door was opened in less than a minute, but there was still the lock to the shackles holding Hubert’s hands in place. 

  
Hubert was trembling now, every muscle tensed in a final desperate attempt to hold on for just a bit longer, just one minute more…he couldn’t hold still, and only hoped that Ferdinand was too occupied with trying one key after another to notice how Hubert bounced lightly from foot to foot, like a child waiting in line for the lavatory. It was so humiliating to behave like this, in front of Ferdinand of all people, but he was too afraid of what might happen if he stopped now for even a moment. 

  
Ferdinand suddenly stopped, frowning down at the keys. “I have tried every key on this ring, but none will fit into the lock holding your hands!”

  
Hubert felt a wave of cold panic wash over him. He was already at his limit, and this was a delay he could not afford.

  
The distress must have shown on his face, because Ferdinand was holding his hands up now in a reassuring gesture. His gloves were missing. Had he lost them in the battle? An odd detail to notice now. “Do not worry, Hubert! I am sure the right key must be somewhere in this cell! It will just be one more moment!” And with that had dashed out of the cell and began to search the boxes and chests littering the room.

  
It was too much. He had simply waited too long. The dreadful ache suddenly spiked into a spasm, and to his horror, he felt a slight trickle begin to leak out of his cock, spreading warm and wet into his clothes. Instead of stopping after a second as it had before, it began to grow in pressure, the trickle morphing into a gentle, uncontrollable stream. 

  
No. _No_. This couldn’t be happening. Hubert nearly bit through his tongue, twisting and contorting his body terribly in a desperate attempt to wrestle back control. It seemed to last a small eternity, but truly it was only a few seconds before he managed force himself to come to the spurting, dribbling stop. He was panting now, a cold sweat broken out over his brow. His smallclothes were soaked through, and he could feel a large damp patch stretching down his left thigh. He had managed to stop for now, but he knew it would not be long before he lost control fully. 

  
“Hubert?” Ferdinand’s voice came, soft and hesitant.

  
Hubert squeezed his eyes closed, shame roiling through his gut. “Go wait outside, Ferdinand.”

  
“Outside? But I have not found the key yet! I promise I will find it, if you will wait just a moment more—”

  
“ _I can’t_.” His eyes had begun to sting behind his eyelids, as if his body had not humiliated him enough already. He was moments away from pissing himself in front of the man he loved and now he was fighting back tears. How disgustingly shameful.

  
“I can’t,” he repeated, hopelessly. “Please, wait outside, give me a moment of privacy. At least let me keep one scrap of my dignity.” _I don’t want you to see me like this. I don’t want you to watch. Please don’t look_.

  
Ferdinand didn’t speak for a moment, and Hubert hoped that perhaps he would do as he said, but instead he heard Ferdinand stepping closer.

  
“Hubert, I…” Ferdinand’s voice was so very soft and kind, and Hubert finally hesitantly opened his eyes. “There is no need for that, truly. Your hands might still be trapped, but mine are not. I can…I could…” Ferdinand’s face had gone pink, and he reached his hands down to Hubert’s soaked groin, to the buttons that had tormented him all day. He stopped just short of touching, looking back up at Hubert for permission. “I-I could help you, if you will allow it.” 

  
…oh. Ferdinand was offering to—oh flames, Hubert was filthy, Ferdinand couldn’t possibly want to touch him like that, and yet here he was offering. It was so embarrassing to even think of it, but he only had the choice between one embarrassment and another, and Ferdinand was offering—

  
“Hurry, please.”

  
That was all the permission Ferdinand needed. He was immediately at work unfastening the damp buttons, reaching in past the sodden smallclothes. Ferdinand’s hand was gentle as he grasped Hubert’s cock, pulling him free just as another leak began to trickle out and had only just enough time to aim him to the floor before Hubert finally, _finally_ let go.

  
He was so horribly full that at first the release was nearly painful, gushing out of him in an uncontrollable torrent and splashing noisily onto the stone floor, but then the relief finally swept over him and he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a soft, shuddering moan. It felt so _good_ , almost like an orgasm that just kept coming and coming, flowing out of him in a great rushing flood that he couldn’t have stopped now if his life had depended upon it.

  
Maybe it was the pleasure of relief, or the wonderful roughness of Ferdinand’s ungloved, calloused hands on his poor exhausted cock, but he wasn’t even half way empty when he realized he was starting to grow hard, the stream beginning to sputter to a stop as the flow was interrupted by his arousal. He stared down as his hardening cock, bewildered by his own reaction but so drained by the experience that he almost didn’t have it in him to feel ashamed any more.

  
Hubert took a small breath, intending to apologize to Ferdinand, to maybe try to explain that there were so many different sensations and he was simply overwhelmed, he had not meant to—but Ferdinand just tightened his grip on his cock slightly, giving it a small, hesitant stroke. He had shifted around at some point to stand behind Hubert, his hands reaching around to hold him, and Hubert felt his breath, warm and heavy against his neck. 

  
“I could—” Ferdinand audibly swallowed, his hands shaking ever so slightly, “If you would allow this as well—” 

  
Hubert had nodded before the thought could even fully be processed, and Ferdinand began to eagerly pump his cock in earnest, his other hand reaching down to fondle his balls. Ferdinand was breathing heavily, and Hubert could feel him grind against his backside, but then Ferdinand brought his thumb up to tease at Hubert’s slit and _oh_ , suddenly he was spilling forth in an entirely different way. He had come much too fast, he knew, but everything was just so much, and as soon as he had gone soft he felt his bladder release again, allowing the last of it to flow out of him to add to the now sizable puddle on the floor until he was finally blissfully empty.

  
Ferdinand waited for a moment, perhaps to be sure that Hubert had finished, before gently shaking him off and tucking him back into his trousers that were now growing uncomfortably cold. He coughed awkwardly, turning away as he pulled out a handkerchief and began to clean his hands. He was very deliberately avoiding letting Hubert see his front, and his ears were crimson.

  
There were a thousand things Hubert probably should have said in that moment, beginning with thanks, but instead he said, “Did you enjoy that, Ferdinand von Aegir?”

  
The choked sputter the younger man gave was answer enough. “I—! Hubert, I apologize if I have overstepped, I truly only intended to help you—”

  
“Ferdinand,” Hubert said firmly, but not unkindly, “you asked my permission twice, and both times I gave it to you. And I…I-I did not…dislike that. Your portion of it, at least.” Hubert shouldn’t have been physically able to blush any more, but he felt a fresh wave of heat pouring into his face all the same. 

  
“It is just…we have been together, ah, _intimately_ , and yet I had never seen you…lose control of yourself. Not truly. A-and that noise you made when you….um.” 

  
Losing control. That was what it was all about, wasn’t it? And losing control at the hands of his enemies or when he feared humiliation, that was dreadful. But losing control in Ferdinand’s hands…

  
“We will discuss this later.”

  
Ferdinand half turned, just enough so that Hubert could see that yes, his trousers were indeed tented with his desire. “We will?” he echoed, sounding quite eager at the thought. 

  
“Later,” Hubert repeated, unable to hold back a small smile. “I do still need you to find that key. But, perhaps take your time with it. I believe you need to compose yourself before we rejoin with our companions. And I, ah…” He glanced down, shame swimming into his stomach again at the sight of the damp patch on his front. “I would hope I’ll have enough time to…dry out somewhat.” 

  
“It really is not so noticeable,” Ferdinand reassured him. “The black hides it well. But if you prefer, I could search for a change of clothes while I look for the key. We could tell everyone that your captors forced you to change into a prisoner’s garb.”

  
“If you could.” Perhaps he would escape this mess with his pride mostly intact after all.

  
Ferdinand smiled brightly. “Leave it to me!” he said, and stepped around the puddle on the floor as he returned to his search of the boxes and Hubert allowed himself to breathe, feeling much lightened in more ways than one. 


End file.
